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#and i haven't put into words exactly what it says about what makes a person a person even if they're not human and don't want to be
andromeda3116 · 1 year
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finally started reading the murderbot diaries because i kept seeing people talking about it and like. shit. okay, fine. this is my candy. space sci-fi set in a corporation-controlled semi-dystopian future, told from the pov of a snarky asexual part-organic sentient robot who has hacked itself into having free will, interwoven with an anti-capitalist, almost-whodunit plotline, and featuring strong platonic relationships as the emotional core of the series?
like, yes, okay, fine. jeez, next time just @ me
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a-b-riddle · 2 months
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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authorhjk1 · 25 days
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How would you do a short free-use story staring your favorite idol?
Thanks for the ask! Although I'm not sure what you mean exactly with "How" Do you want me to explain it or write it? I decided to just write it, hope you enjoy. @mechaknight-98 I saw your other request, I will get to it when I have the time.
(I hope I understood the concept of free-use correctly)
White
Kim Jisoo X Male Reader
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You hear voices behind the door, after you rang the doorbell. Footsteps come closer and you take a step back. A moment later, the door is being opened.
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For a moment, you are stunned by her beauty. How can a person be so pretty? So perfect? You smell her flowery scent. Maybe roses.
Her eyes grow big once she realises who is standing in front of her.
"(Y/n), I-I..."
Jisoo stutters, too surprised to see you standing in front of her parent's mansion. The young heiress of the Kim Group is usually very well spoken.
"What are you doing here?"
"Just came back from a business trip. I haven't had your pussy in weeks."
You catch her flinching.
Despite the amount of times you've already taken advantage of your arrangement, she is still uncomfortable talking about it openly.
"S-Sure. Please follow me."
Jisoo turns around and leads you inside her parent's place, after you shut the door behind you. You walk behind her, enjoying the view of her naked shoulders. The back of her necklace sparkles in the light of the chandelier in the hallway.
Approaching the big wooden stairs in the middle of the house, the two of you pass by the entrance to the dining room.
"Jisoo!"
She freezes in place, before you both look into the room. You recognize her parents, who sit on one side of the table. A chair is empty, the one next to it is occupied by Jisoo's fiance.
"Who is this man?"
Her father looks at you in suspicion.
"He is a business partner of mine. We are headed to my study, cause we have to make an important decision on the future of our companies' relationship, which can't be delayed."
That's the Jisoo everyone knows. The strong, independent and successful businesswoman. The complete opposite of the Jisoo you know. Your submissive, free-use toy.
Her father nods in approval, visibly oblivious. You do a short bow in his direction. Jisoo starts walking again. Her chin raised, back straight.
Halfway up the stairs, you can't help it anymore. She just looks flawless. And you really have been longing for her for weeks.
You reach out, your hand squeezing her ass through her white dress. Jisoo jumps, but she doesn't say anything. She keeps walking as if nothing is happening. After squeezing her right cheek a couple of times, you stop walking, making her stop too.
"Suck me off."
Jisoo turns around. You are almost at the top of the stairs already. You see the confusion in her eyes. Why can't you wait one more minute?
But she doesn't talk back. Jisoo carefully gets on her knees in front of you, making sure she doesn't mess up her dress somehow.
A moment later, your cock lands on her face. Jisoo closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she savours your smell. You can tell that your absence made her sexually frustrated.
"Are you still waiting until you married him?"
It's an odd question to ask, when the soon to be bride is giving the tip of your dick a sensual kiss.
"Yes. But he keeps trying to initiate something. I don't know if he is gonna wait until he puts a wedding ring on my finger."
You sigh as your gaze gets caught on the big silver diamond ring on her ring finger. The hand it's on is stroking your cock, while she talks.
"I don't like it. But I can't blame him."
You reach down and cup her cheek. Jisoo leans into it, looking up at you with big eyes.
"A woman like you could make a man do whatever she wants. You are fucking gorgeous."
You quickly realize the irony of your words. You are making her do whatever you want.
"Thank you."
A shy smile plays around her lips. Jisoo still can't take compliments. At least when they are coming from you.
After your quick exchange, she finally starts giving you head properly. You can't believe how much of a slut you've turned her into. She is sucking you off in the middle of her parents house in plain sight, while her parents and her boyfriend are in the room next door.
"That's a good girl."
You encourage Jisoo as she bobs her head on your cock. You've missed her mouth. The way her lips wrap around you. The way her tongue glides along your length. The way her throat tightens, when you push past her gag reflex.
As exciting and adventurous this little scene might be, you know that you will get caught sooner rather than later, if you don't move on.
"Let's go to your room. I don't want to waste my time here when I could be in there, plowing your pussy like I own it."
You help Jisoo to her feet, catching the slight blush on her cheeks.
"Because I do."
You whisper into her ear, before spinning her around.
The two of you finally make it down the hallway without any further incidents. Once you reach her room, you walk inside, waiting for her to close the door behind her.
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She has turned into a shy, innocent girl once again. You lean against Jisoo, pressing her against the door, kissing every inch of her exposed skin.
"How did I even make it these couple of weeks without this body of yours?"
It was a rhetoric question between kisses, but Jisoo tries to come up with an explanation. An explanation that satisfies you.
"I send you several pictures of me every day. And videos. I kept thinking of you while I..."
A growl escapes your lips. The power you have over her right now gives you a familiar rush of adrenaline.
"Strip."
You sit down on the edge of her bed, crossing your arms in front of you. If you were sitting on a chair at your desk, it would've looked like Jisoo was there to apply for an internship.
She shyly brushes all of her hair on her right side behind her ear.
"Can you help me please?"
Jisoo turns around. She know uses her whole hand to put all of her hair over her left shoulder. You reach upwards, taking the zipper of her dress, before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes follow her dress as she lets it slip down her frame.
Her porcelain like skin and her white lace panties captivate you. Her fiance must go mad, knowing she is together with him and he still can't have her.
The sight of Jisoo, standing in front of you almost completely naked, makes you finally jump into action. You pin her against the door, before she can react. Your pants are on the floor a second later.
After pushing the white fabric to the side, Jisoo does nothing but moan as you ease yourself inside.
"Oh fuck."
You groan into her ear, relishing in the familiar feeling of being inside her tight cunt. Jisoo's cheek is pressed up against the white wood as she takes your pounding from behind. Her moans are deeper than they usually are. Maybe because you haven't fucked her in a while. Or because her parents and fiance are downstairs.
You kiss her other cheek and her naked shoulders as you thrust into her again and again. Her scent only makes you go harder. You hold her waist with both hands, pounding her against the door.
Jisoo's eyes are closed. You can't tell if it's because she is liking it so much, or because she is cheating. Either way, you keep using her body to make yourself cum. Her tight walls do most of the job. They squeeze around you, trying to make you cum as quick as possible.
Leaning against her, you fuck her into the door, slowly approaching your orgasm.
"Fuck Jisoo."
She knows what's coming next, moaning a little louder as she feels you throbbing inside of her.
That rush, coming from knowing you are using another man's woman as a free-use toy, pushes you over the edge. You claim Jisoo's pussy as yours as you paint her insides white. She feels your cum warm her lower region. While her fiance is probably begging her to sleep with him, you don't even bother asking where she would want your cum. You creampie Kim Jisoo, enjoying the familiar feeling of her cum filled pussy squeezing your cock.
Jisoo was never the loud type. Which is a blessing in disguise, especially when you use her in public. She barely talks, only moans and whines escape her mouth. It fits her reserved, proud character. Jisoo doesn't look very elegant or proud right now as you finally come to a hold. You bite into her ear, just above her earrings. As she flinches and hisses in pain, you only have time to think for barely a second. You wonder if she bought them, or her fiance did. They look beautiful on her.
When you open your eyes again, you see your teeth marks in her ear. Jisoo's forehead is now leaning against the wood. Her eyes are still closed, she is taking heavy breaths.
Resting your chin on her naked shoulder, you stay buried inside her snug hole.
"I have a meeting with your company tomorrow."
You kiss her neck, this time more careful not to leave a mark.
"Put your hair in a ponytail. I need something to hold onto. You don't want me to mess up your hair, do you?"
You step into her huge office after the first half of the long meeting is over. Jisoo surely did not disappoint.
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Throughout the whole meeting, you were the only person aware of the fact that Jisoo is not wearing anything underneath that dress. She send you a picture this morning. She is only one button away from standing naked in front of you.
You walk around her desk, sitting down in her comfortable leather chair. Jisoo knows how the two of you will spend your lunch break.
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fcthots · 24 days
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I have school in less than 2 hours, and I haven't slept in 3 days, but I'd like, nay *need* Jason.
Please write smut about him, any smut make Jason call us 'pretty girl' and let him sat 'You're doing so good, so good'. Make him be a bit feral for his girl, maybe for her saying Jaybear casually or lean into him while sleeping. Just want Jason being an absolute simp, crazy person, just insane for his partner.
Clawing at my walls rn
Like I want him more than I want academic validation, more than I want One Direction back together, more than I want anything.
You're so amazing!
I mean when I say that your posts make my day. You're so talented, and I wanted to thank you for all the work you put in here.
-🪅
you can’t just say these things to me and expect me not to blush
You knew it was a mistake when Jason did a “renovation project” in one of his backup safe houses. You knew he was up to something, but that stupid, but adorable, smile caught you in its trap. He said he “just wanted you to take a look at [his] safe house” and “just make sure you like the renovations!” Liar. Pretty liar though.
His “renovations” consisted of two things: new sheets and a mirrored ceiling. You were doomed the moment you walked in the door. You’re not exactly sure how you ended up this way, but his tongue is making you see stars and your clothes are… somewhere else. You can’t recall.
He isn’t letting you go any time soon. After the fourth time he’s edged you, in fact, he says he’s “just getting started.” Now, your head is a pile of mush. Your face is flushed, your hair is splayed out, and your eyes are fucked out as you watch your reflection in the mirror. When you look down at his face, his eyes are already boring into yours. It sends a shiver down your spine and a spark of pleasure down to where Jason’s mouth connects with you that leaves you oh so close.
But he pulls away again and leaves you whining. He clicks his tongue. “Aw, pretty girl. Look at you. You’re doing so good for me, so good.” You let out another whine, begging for release. “You wanna cum pretty thing? I know you do. One more, ok? One more. I’m sorry, baby. You just look so pretty like this. That’s why we had to get the mirrors, sweetheart. You need to see the way you look when you’re like this, so you know why it drives me insane. But I can’t resist giving you what you want. One more and I’ll let you cum on my tongue.”
He kisses his way back down between your thighs and stays true to his word.
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genshinology · 1 year
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AN INFLUENTIAL MAN’S COMPANION (OR IS IT MORE?!)
(alternatively, how they are dropping hints left and right that you are more than just a friend.)
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— PAIRINGS ; alhaitham, ayato & childe x gn!reader (separate)
— CONTENT ; oblivious!reader, may contain a spoiler from sumeru's story quest on alhaitham's, mentions of childe's real name (ajax), reader is addressed as “little bug” in childe's (please, it's just a poorly written joke, i swear).
— NOTES ; don't care what everyone says but a man that has the power and money is definitely a man that i want. wrote this on a whim so 'm sorry for the horrible writing and the lack of details in this.
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☆ — ALHAITHAM
"why are you so dense?" alhaitham's question caught you off guard, considering the fact that you were so immersed with yet another history book of teyvat in the akademiya's house of daena.
his sudden question made you unknowingly gazed at him with annoyance (it wasn't your fault though, not when he actually interrupted your reading of the fourth chapter), and you quickly bookmarked the page you had last read before actually paying full attention to the scribe across you.
"dense is not really a word to describe me. i think i catch on things around me quite fast," you huffed out, exaggeratedly bumping your forehead onto the desk. a silent thud was heard afterwards, not necessarily loud enough for other people to hear, but alhaitham definitely caught on the hint you mentally saying that you were bored and the fact that he took away the only form of your entertainment by taking away the thick book from you made you squinted your eyes at him.
your eyes prying at his action. he was an unpredictable man, so you couldn't question what he did. especially when the question of, "do you know what is the context of this book?" suddenly came out from his mouth.
"uhm.. yes?" you stopped thinking too deep when alhaitham's gaze zeroed straight into you, signalling that you should be answering his question more precisely. "a book about teyvat; the seven nations, the archon war, the history, the irminsul, the heavenly principles, the fatui, the abyss—
"ah yes, sounds like classified information, isn't it?" alhaitham cut you off, showing the old cover page with a knowing look that you couldn't really decipher. "you do realise that this book comes from the restricted repository room?" alhaitham was questioning you, slightly smiled when he saw how the gears in your brains were slowly turning and you finally understood what he was trying to point out.
"wait. you are right. it makes sense now, how incomplete certain details are since the book itself covers forbidden knowledge.." you put your right palm underneath your jaw, still in disbelief at the fact that the book in his hold was a restricted material for general use to the scholars and the public.
"not really the brightest mind," he paused. "that's why i said you are, indeed, a slow-witted person," he shook his head, his own work was slowly forgotten amidst the conversation he accidentally forced you into.
"that is just saying 'stupid' in a more formal manner. i am truly offended," you sighed, noting the way alhaitham seemed taken aback at the last sentence you gave to him.
alhaitham could only put down the book in front of you. "..and i am offended as well. you don't even think that i am using my authority to give you access to this one book you have been super interested in these days, haven't you?"
he turned away after seconds of eye contact, especially when your eyes widened and you felt how your cheeks were hurting due to the shock. "you.. did this for me? not exactly the first thing i would think of, especially if it's from the scribe of the akademiya."
you smiled, way too wide and alhaitham thought he was holding his breath for a moment. "thank you, you're so kind."
'kind' wasn't what he really expected you to say, specifically when he, himself, wasn't filled with kindness and tenderness alike. the you that he knew would be instantly flustered if you ever knew the true meaning of his intention when he first directed you with those questions.
he could only laughed heartlessly at your statement, thinking that you must have never received this much attention from someone, or that you really treated him as a true friend.
"i do not do this for some mere scholars, just so you know that you are exceptional."
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☆ — AYATO
"my lord," you bowed down, giving ayato the respectable approach that he deserved. "is there something you would like me to help?"
ayato was a diligent and a busy man, that was the first thing you had noticed when he first took you right under his wing. his smile specifically was something you swore would be your death one day, he was too charming for your own good.
"come here," his bright face made you ten times more nervous than ever. "also, please, drop the formalities. we are hidden from the public view."
the last sentence was way too intimate, but you decided that it must have been his figure of speech.
"yes, my lord—i mean, ayato," you slightly cringed at the way his name rolled off your tongue not-so-eloquently. something about calling him by his name, even without his family name, felt super uncivil to you.
he had done so much for you, so to hear his request of doing what you had been accustomed to was hard.
so you could only stumble forward awkwardly, hands clasping together to stop yourself from shaking a little bit too much. why did he always bring out the nervousness within you in private? did he really had these effects?
"here, sit down," ayato's calligraphy pen halted its movement, and it didn't help to calm you down when he patted the sit beside his chair.
"i'm sorry, my lord," the title accidentally slipped away nonetheless, and you decided to ignore the look in his eyes—as if he was hurting by the fact that you didn't address his name, but he possibly couldn't be that childish, it was the commissioner after all—as he quickly regained his composure. "you need my help to assort these paperworks?"
"it is fine, y/n," oh, the fact that he didn't address your first name made you knew he did feel slightly dejected.
you quickly made up your action by swiftly gliding onto the chair he already pulled out underneath his study. for a moment, you were stunned at the act of a gentleman he usually did to you. he was so kind, and you knew that you were super lucky to have him as your employer.
"i don't want you to do anything today. you can rest up until tomorrow," he said, slightly rummaging some precious items he kept in the drawer. you knew those items in there were far more important to him, especially when it also had his late father's will that was neatly preserved in the sakura-scented letter he and ayaka made a long time ago. it was honestly a cute activity for them now that you reminisced the memory.
"is there any occasion? or you will be away?" you asked him, and you could see his eyes lightened up at the way his hand reached out to yours, and you were left baffled.
his hand was warm, that was the first thing you noted. besides when you felt something smooth in your palm, you questioned the foreign thing in your hand.
it was a necklace, with a lighter hue of blue as its pendant. your intrusive thought won you over as you saw how the pendant resembled ayato's hydro vision to an extent. it was ethereal, at least in your eyes.
by the feel of it, you already knew this necklace's worth had already exceeded your wage.
"ayato?"
"it is for you. i was buying one for ayaka when i was reminded of you, y/n," he warmly explained, his sincere eyes were too much for you as you avoided his eye contact.
your beating heart felt dangerous as ever. his hands were still engulfing yours, as if to keep you from shying away.
"take it. it would mean a lot to me."
"thank you, sir-ayato," you corrected yourself, and ayato thought it was adorable of you to stutter around him.
his heart was content when you thanked him over and over again.
if giving the necklace was a metaphor to his love letter, then he would be overjoyed when he saw you roaming around his estate with the necklace on you the next day.
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☆ — CHILDE
"today's a really nice day," childe sighed happily, as he picked you up from the ground, and you repeatedly punched his back, flailing in his arms to put you down.
"ajax!" you gasped, who wouldn't be in shock, when you were literally caught off guard by his attack and then your feet weren't touching the snowy path anymore. "put me down."
"ehem, manners, please," he faked a cough.
you could only kick around, although none of your actions would actually affect him physically. "i am almost going to swear at you, you know?"
"put me down, please," you tried to whisper into his ear, so that he would feel ticklish by the air that escaped from you.
"gross," he commented, and before you knew it, he already let you go from his somewhat soothing hold onto your body. "need to disinfect my ear after this."
you slapped his arm after hearing his bad joke, roughly enough to get his focus onto you. "let me do it with the bug spray i have at home. i hope it'll cleanse your whole soul too."
"touché," childe cracked a smile at hearing you almost choked on your breath. "aren't you my little bug?"
"don't you have a cuter nickname for me? seriously, bug? out of all lovelier things on this world?" at this point, you had already clinging onto childe's side, hyper aware at some people who had been watching the playful fight between you two for some time now.
childe noticed the way you practically glued to him, your hand fisting the sweater he wore, and childe could only thought that your ministration would only bring a misunderstanding, especially that one which people always commented on when they saw both of you.
"look at you two."
childe could only smile at the old lady that passed by him. "couple fights are normal, until the old days. i hope you're having a great time," the old lady patted your back, and when you were about to clear the misunderstanding he had always loved, the old lady left.
"w-what?" you turned to childe whom somehow looked at you fondly, and you could only voiced out your opinion on the cold day. "that old lady is not making any sense."
"—and you, ajax," you continued when you caught childe slacking from paying his full focus attentively to you, as he only shrugged his shoulder. "...are you really going to leave again?"
"hm?" he hummed, and thought to himself that you were so adorable in his spare sweater, fighting against the chilly wind and hesitating to actually say that you would miss him if he went to liyue for his work again.
"of course. it is my duty for the tsaritsa, and no, you won't be going to join me this time. have you forgotten when you almost got hit by the fatui because they were belittling you?" childe quickly cut you off when he saw how your lips twitching at his words, knowing too well that you would suggest the idea of venturing to liyue with him. the last time he accepted your idea, he almost blamed himself fully if one of his subordinates hurt you. he could only thank the archons that nothing too severe happened on you.
"b-but—
"and, our date for today went exceptionally well, wasn't it? you won't miss me like you have always did before," he winked, and you almost threw your fist at his face if you could. "i am going there for a week. i'll be back before you know it."
"right. let's stop now before your teasing goes too far ahead of yourself," you rolled your eyes, and only did you notice that you were still holding him dearly.
you quickly pulled your hand, and childe swore he had already missed the way you stayed close by his side. he was definitely smitten, he knew it.
"thank me later for wasting my money on you," childe laughed at the way you tried to run away from his grasp.
if he could, he would voice out loud that he really didn't care about his money, as long as you were happy with him, and it frustrated him a little bit that you really thanked him for that when all he wanted to say was that he loved you too.
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bunnyreaper · 9 months
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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘
𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰
𝖕𝖙 2 — 𝖕𝖙 1 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊
wc - 5.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, smut, phone sex, wee bit of angst, brief mention of the word 'daddy'
notes - vibrating with both excitement and fear, but hoping y'all love this like you loved the last one!! also on ao3! ♥
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Johnny was right to send you to bed when he did because you're already struggling to get through the day, and on any less sleep, you might have fallen asleep at your desk. Clearly, you're terrible at making decisions for yourself, if that wasn't already evidenced by the nearly empty fridge accompanied by the pile of empty takeout containers.
It's not even the end of the workday yet, and you're beat—except staying up with Johnny was so worth it, getting to hear his voice and everything he said was complete bliss. You only wish he was here now, whispering in your ear and making your day go by quicker. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that beyond your good morning text, you haven't heard from him since, and you hate that you already feel like you're suffering from withdrawals. 
Again, that could be the lack of sleep, or adequate nutrition, or the fact that lately you haven't exactly been the most social person, and you've definitely been missing social contact. All of that missing need you just want to be filled by Johnny, Johnny, Johnny—his name like a chanted prayer in your mind. 
You at least have the sense of mind to focus when you need to, but at any idle moment, Johnny crawls back into your brain. Your mind drifts to wondering what he's up to, wondering where in the world they've shipped him off to this time—what timezone is he even in? What hemisphere? 
5 p.m. comes round sooner than you expect, and you find yourself logging off from your work laptop with a relieved sigh. You might be exhausted from lack of sleep, but Johnny's arrival in your life left you energised in a way you hadn't felt in so long. Every part of you hums with excitement, thinking about what the future might hold. 
You have to keep snapping yourself out of getting lost in the fantasy, even as you find yourself rereading through texts and committing Johnny's words to memory. The last time you did this still sticks in the back of your mind, still stings—someone who came into your life and was everything until they were nothing. Someone who said they could be trusted as they broke down your barriers. 
The aching loneliness was too much, so you'd run from it straight into something worse, not even realising how easily you fell into the trap. 
Your thoughts were spiraling, and you needed a distraction, so you put on the TV in the hopes of getting lost in the shitty reality dating show you've been watching lately. 
A few hours later, the buzz of your phone pulls you from the drama of the screen—your spirits soaring as you see the little icon you're rapidly growing attached to. 
Evening bonnie, hope you're not napping too close to bed time. 
hi!! no... for once, lol. how was your day? 
Long, but thoughts of you got me through ;) how was yours? 
The rapid responses mean your smile never has time to waver, as your eyes are glued to the screen watching as the messages are read, the app tells you he is typing and then another one of his messages appears. 
Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you eagerly respond.
somehow managed to not fall asleep at my desk, i would've napped but... 
But? 
didn't want to risk missing any messages from you. 
Johnny heart reacts to the message immediately. 
Call? 
please!!! 
Mere seconds later, his face fills the screen once more, and your sheer excitement overtakes your nerves by far.
"Hi." You say shyly, as soon as you accept the call.
"Hi bonnie, gotcha on loudspeaker by the way." He greets you, his voice immediately sending warmth through you. 
You were rapidly growing obsessed with his terms of endearment, too. 
"Oh." You pause, suddenly self-conscious and hesitant. "Are you not alone?" Does anyone in his life even know you exist? You know you haven't really mentioned to your friends that you're 'dating' again.
"Definitely am, don't worry. Jus' need ma hands free." 
At that, your brow furrows, your voice filling with both mischief and disbelief. "What are you doing, Johnny?" 
He chuckles, before rustling some papers around. "Paperwork, nothing fun." 
Even hearing the word paperwork right now drains you, and can hear that Johnny isn't exactly pleased with the idea either. 
"Wishing I was under the desk again?" You ask, hoping your playful tone will make him smile. 
"Dinnae start." He groans. "What are you doing? Have you eaten?" 
"Not yet, I need to check my milk is still in date." You throw yourself off the sofa and make your way through to the kitchen—it's a good job Johnny actually poked you to eat. 
"Milk?" His voice is filled with confusion.
"For cereal." 
"Ach." 
"I can feel your disapproval from here." You can practically sense him shaking his head disapprovingly too. 
"Good, I see how this gonae be." He sighs, the disappointment evident, along with that sense of control, guidance. 
It just makes you tingle.
"Yes, daddy?" You giggle audaciously like you know exactly what you're doing, and hope it has the effect you want it to.
Johnny chokes, and then growls... and then sighs. "Away n bile yer heid." He whispers, yet he sounds anything but angry, his voice thick with arousal as he undoubtedly fights all kinds of urges. 
You want to take that step with Johnny, to dirty talk with him now that you feel comfortable, but you suppose now isn't the time—after all, he is still working. 
"I'm being mean now, sorry." 
"A right brat." He growls playfully. "Do something for me, lass?" 
The shift in his tone and the previous conversation topic gives you a good guess at what's coming next. "Is it cooking a real meal?" You groan playing into the role.
Well, admittedly committing to self-care tasks like cooking isn't the easiest thing in the world, and having someone to guide you in that is... a turn-on. 
"Knew you were a smart girl." He purrs, and those words turn your brain and your body to mush. 
You have to stifle a whine from leaving you, as your face flushes furiously. Oh, how you wish you could hear that over and over again—in that voice, with that accent, whispered right in your ear as he—
"What you gonna cook?" He asks, interrupting your rapidly spiraling thoughts. 
Staring into the fridge is a depressing experience—the shelves are mostly bare and there's a faint smell of something off. "Ugh, I don't have a lot in, to be honest." 
"Logging onto the Tesco website now, or maybe meal delivery service..." He muses, and you can imagine the smirk on his lips.
"Johnny!" Your protest is weak, as the coddling and infantalisation make you feel something you probably shouldn't. 
He snickers at your tone, but he knows now that if things are to continue, he won't listen to your objections. "Jokin'... for now. Talk me through yer fridge, lass." 
"Do you cook?" You ask, wondering if he's going to magically talk you through a recipe with the condiments in your fridge and the dried pasta in the pantry. 
There's a beat of silence. "Not often." 
You're overcome with a fit of giggles and a wave of faux offense. "Then who are you to lecture me?" 
Johnny meets your exclamation with a series of tuts, which already quiet your discontent, but you find yourself ruined when his voice drops and he delivers his next few words. "What happened to 'Johnny knows best'?" 
Fuck him, using his powers for good—and you can already tell he's getting off on it too. Today, you won't indulge him by submissively repeating it back, since he's making you face the horror that is cooking.
"Fine." You sigh, looking for what items in the fridge that are actually still in date. You pull open a cupboard or two as well. "I have... hummus and celery and uh, supernoodles in the cupboard." 
"Better than cereal." He waits for your response that doesn't come, as you pout on the end of the phone, and then he plays his next move flawlessly.  "For me, bonnie girl?" 
The plea in his voice makes you melt, makes you want to do just about anything for him. 
"For you." You say with a smile, grabbing the packets of noodles and a saucepan. "Have you eaten?" 
"A have, chicken tikka masala." 
You sigh, knowing that if not for Johnny you could've ordered a nice Indian for yourself—you get to work on the noodles anyway. "Kinda jealous now, if I'm honest."
His laugh is short but earnest. "Same, haven't had beefy supernoodles in an age." 
"Yeah, I would hope they're feeding you actually decent, nutritious food over there." 
He huffs. "I would hope you're feeding yerself decent food, but here we are." That playful judgement is back, lacing his words and making you crave his approval. 
It's a startling thought, that here you are, only a few days in and needing his praise, his encouragement—you suppose it comes easy as it plays into both of your natural instincts—his to lead, yours to follow.
"Less sass, more... paperwork." You grumble playfully, trying to cover up the fact that, maybe, you like being teased by him. 
"Aye." He laughs, and you can briefly hear him scribbling in the silence.  
For a few moments, it's just the sound of him writing and you cooking, but the quiet feels comfortable rather than awkward—strangely routine and domestic after such a short space of time. 
Your mind wanders back to what the two of you had discussed last night, about his day later in the week. "Have you thought more about Friday?" 
There's a brief shuffle and the sound of the call changes as Johnny seems to take you off the loudspeaker and moves around. "Meetin' you?" 
"Yeah." There's a sense of nervousness within you, a fear he's going to suddenly decide that he doesn't want to see you after all, that he doesn't see this going anywhere. It's so soon, and yet the thought seems crushing. 
"Haven't thought of much else." His confession seems to settle your rapidly beating heart just a little, the sincerity in his voice making your stomach twist and turn. 
Maybe you shouldn't push it, but you want to meet him more than anything, so you can make the first step toward all of this becoming real. "Would you be up for coffee? I can come to you!" 
"About that..." His sigh is weary, and panic overtakes you as the silence stretches on. "Am leaving for a week or so." 
It's not a total rejection at least, but somehow it still stings, still settles heavy and unpleasant in your gut. "When?" 
"Tomorrow." He falls silent, waiting for you to say something, yet you don't know what words to even summon right now. "'m sorry, lass." 
You take a deep breath for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you stir your noodles and try to put everything you feel into some sort of coherent order. 
There's no logical reason to feel rejected, as it's not that he doesn't want the date, but that he can't. Perhaps it's that lingering thought that this kind of thing will be a frequent occurrence—it's just a small taste of what's to come. But wanting Johnny means handling this, like he deserves. 
You push through the discomfort and force yourself into a more positive mindset.
"But... after that? Or is this just because you hate coffee so much you're fleeing the country?" You laugh softly, hoping the joke will lighten the thick atmosphere. 
"Now, if you'd asked me out for tea..." He laughs in return, before turning serious. "But... when I'm back, I'd love to see you. Have ta, really. " 
"I'm glad." The beaming smile on your face is ridiculous, and you're so thankful he can't see you grinning like an idiot at his words. He has to meet you. 
With your cooking complete, you take the saucepan off the stove and pour the noodles into a bowl, grabbing it before returning to the comfort of the couch. "Okay, noodles done." 
"Wanna call me back once yer done, or?" 
Fuck, he's so considerate. 
You hum negatively as you start to blow on the noodles to cool them. "I'll eat on the phone if you don't mind the sound of me slurping." 
Johnny chuckles, before making a suggestive noise. 
"The noodles, Johnny." 
He coughs, covering more juvenile laughter. "Aye, the noodles, of course." 
"So... going anywhere fun?" You ask, referencing his upcoming deployment. 
"Classified, I'm afraid." He answers curtly, but you know it's nothing more than his duty. 
No questions about that, then, you suppose. It's going to be a strange thing to adjust to, but it's another thing that comes along with accepting Johnny into your life. You change your line of questioning, hopefully to something he can answer. "Are you... scared?" 
"No." He answers quickly and firmly, in a manner that suggests certainty rather than bravado. "Don't worry about me, hen." He rushes to add.
"Kinda hard not to, even if we only just met..." You sigh, but you suppose you have to trust Johnny's skills and training. "I imagine it only gets more intense from here." 
The admission feels like a swift kick to the stomach. 
"Yeah..." You hear a knock on the door from Johnny's end, and he swears colourfully under his breath. "Ach, can I call yer back?" 
It's almost cruel the way such timing drives the point home. 
"Sure, things to attend to?" You ask absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer. 
He sighs, before trying to turn his tone more positive. "Aye, but I'll catch you before bed, yeah?" 
"Yeah. Bye, Johnny." 
"Bye, lass." 
He ends the call, leaving you with your meal and your thoughts. 
Maybe you aren't strong enough to deal with this after all, you think, trying to settle the ugly, gnawing feeling inside you. It already hurts, but maybe that's because you're trying to hold so tight onto something intangible. Maybe if you and Johnny become something, mean something to each other, it'll all be easier to deal with. 
It's an hour or so later when you're tucked up in bed that Johnny's call lights up your phone. You pick it up instantly. 
"Hey, glad you haven't fallen asleep already." He chuckles, his voice softer than before. 
"Mmm, still hanging on." You mumble, cheek pressed into plushness and tiredness lingering at the back of your mind, as well as the mess of feelings that still simmers within you. 
"Cuddled up with the big B?" He asks, voice cheeky and charming. 
You can't help the soft giggle at the ridiculous nickname. "The big B?!"
"Barnaby!" He clarifies with a hearty laugh, not ashamed at all of his goofiness. 
"The big B! That's so silly" 
The laughs quiet, and another silence falls, but this time you feel the discomfort that comes with it. 
Johnny is the first to breach it, his tone tinged with worry. "How are yer?"
"I'm fine." You sigh, not wanting to elaborate and get yourself upset again. It's not far from the truth. Nothing has changed, but this is something you have to learn to sit with, have to make peace with for both of your sake. 
Johnny cuts right through the noise. "Yer seemed a little upset earlier. Wanna talk about it?" 
Communication—the key to any good relationship, an essential to any kinky one, and one thing you think you really kind of suck at. 
It's a simple sentence with a simple answer, and nothing about Johnny suggests that his reaction will be anything other than supportive—but it's not Johnny's voice that whispers cruel things in the back of your head. And for now, Johnny's influence is not enough to quiet the storm. 
The fear grips at your heart, stops your words right in your throat, but your mind wars between the ghosts of your past and the duty of your present and future. 
Johnny waits quietly, not pushing you for an answer or assuming how you feel, and that small act helps pull you out of the fog and helps you force yourself to speak. 
"Reality setting in, I guess." The words don't come easy at first, your throat tight—but once you start, the rest just seems to flow, taking the weight of your burdens with them. "Like, it's not too bad right now, it's just... knowing what's in store? Assuming we keep talking." 
The opportunity to really put your thoughts in order and get them out actually does help, surprisingly.
Johnny goes silent for a moment, considering your words before he speaks. "If you wanna stop—" 
"I don't." You feel bad for interrupting him, but you already know that's not what you want, even if he sees it as a kindness. "Like I said yesterday, I'm not faint-hearted... the intensity just took me by surprise. All of this has, really." 
"I'm with you there. Sat here thinking about how I'm gonna be thinking of anything else when I'm on the mission." He laughs softly, the sound laden with emotion. "Lt's gonna have my head." 
The gravity of his job sinks in now, with the realisation that he will be busy and focused, and rightfully so.
"Will you be able to get in touch while you're gone?" You ask, more for informational purposes, rather than being unable to last a week without hearing his voice. 
"Not a whole lot, no. Sometimes no' at all, but I'll let you know when I can." He states plainly, and the honesty is so refreshing. 
"I'll try not to bother you too much then." You giggle, though you don't really mean your words. He has his mission, and you have yours—stay strong while he's gone. 
He scoffs instantly. "You? A bother? Never." 
You hum, continuing with your playful statements. "You haven't seen me when I'm clingy." 
"A like clingy, am clingy too." 
Ugh, just when you think he can't be more perfect, he comes out with that. The sweet smile on your face is relentless, and you just know the same is true for him too. "Oh yeah? So you won't be complaining when we meet, and I just take a hold of your hand and don't let go." 
His barked laugh is so genuine that it makes your heart sing. "Bold of yer to assume I'd be letting you go, lass." 
The thought of even his hand in yours is enough to send you into a frenzy—a simple, delicate, and chaste act, yet you crave it like nothing else. When your date finally does come around, you'll be able to touch him and see him up close. You'll be able to hear that voice and those words up close and unrestrained by the slightly shitty quality of the phone call—and that is a little terrifying.  
"I guess waiting isn't a bad thing after all, maybe I'll be less nervous by then." Because right now you know you'd hesitate to reach out and touch him, would struggle looking him in the eye for too long. Maybe if you wait, the radiance that is Johnny's warmth will wear off, but somehow you doubt it. 
"Why ya nervous?" 
You almost snort at such an oblivious question from such a seemingly smart man. "Have you seen you?" Have you talked to you? Been on the end of your affections? Your mind pleads. 
"See this ugly mug every day." He grumbles, though you can still hear the smile. 
"You can't see, but I'm rolling my eyes." You giggle. "But what if I just... can't resist you? Jump you right then and there?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone. 
"In public?" He tuts, slow and sexy, his voice dropping low. "Naughty girl." 
You straight up whimper. "Needy girl, for you." 
A growl leaves his throat, along with a whispered "Fuck." 
Arousal floods through you, overtakes you, as you feel your mind slipping to a space of deep-seated need, all for him. You feel on fire, your skin hypersensitive to the brush of the sheets, as your lower body hums and begs for attention. No longer can you hold yourself back from falling under his sexy spell. "Your groans, your voice, it all drives me crazy." 
The laugh that leaves him is weaker, choked with arousal. "All wet fer me, bonnie?" His voice, now a touched graveled, wraps so wonderfully around every word. 
"Soaked." You squirm in place, not even needing to feel to know just how dripping you are—every time he teases you, you practically gush. Your spare hand dives below the sheets, tracing ever so slightly over your stomach as it crawls lower. "Johnny?" 
"Yes, bonnie?" It sounds like his control is wavering too. 
"Please can I touch? I need it so bad." You whine and plead, surrendering yourself to Johnny's command. 
"You don't—" Another growl leaves his throat, you hear him shuffle and when his voice returns, he sounds even more aroused than before—sweet, gentle domination drips from his tone. "Touch yerself, go on." 
You comply immediately, your hand diving under your waistband and zeroing in on your swollen clit—relief floods you the second you make contact, your fingers rubbing delicate swirls on your soaked nub as gentle moans force themselves free. 
"Oh fuck." Johnny's breathing is ragged between his groans. "Gonna have tae join ya." 
"Fuckfuckfuck." Your eyes slip shut as you imagine him reaching down to free his aching cock, all for you. Your thoughts center on conjuring up an image of how long and thick you imagine him to be. "Is... is your cock as big as the rest of you?" 
You squeak out your words while you still have command over the English language.
"Guess you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles breathlessly, some of the words catching in his throat as he clearly works himself. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know how tae take care of yer, know you're already desperate for me." 
Your circles quicken, his words sending pleasure coursing through you in a way that almost feels better than your touch. You fill the air with breathy moans. "Need you, Johnny." 
"Need you too, pet." He growls his words over the building slick sound.
"Oh fuck." Your reaction is instant, the word sending everything in your brain into overdrive. Pet. Pet. You almost cum right then and there, but his assault on your senses and sensibilities continues. 
"God, thinking about you on the end of a leash for me? So fuckin' hard thinking about it." His voice modulates between and whine and a growl, his need growing furiously. "I'd be so fuckin' lucky." 
You imagine the collar slipping around your neck, imagine Johnny clicking shut a lock and attaching a leash—pulling you to him just as he is now with every word. 
"I'd be the most loyal pet ever, I swear." You start to babble, unable to hold back any longer on the wave of submission that overtakes you. "I'll Wait for you to come home, naked and kneeling with my leash ready." 
"Jesus, fuck." Each grunt that leaves him makes you shiver. Each word like its own bolt of electricity straight from his body to yours. "Yeah, my good girl would be so lost without me." He says it with such certainty, speaking the truth to life. 
"I get separation anxiety like mad. I'll miss your touch, miss your smell, miss your taste—" You cut yourself off with a high-pitched whine, your fingers working you so fucking close to the edge.
"Don't worry, I'd fuck you so good before I go bonnie, fill yer up and leave you dripping with me." His groans are accompanied by more of those slick sounds. "Mark that pretty neck o' yours, too." 
"I'm... I'm not gonna last." You admit, holding back even now from cumming—you crave his permission. 
"Me either. Go on, moan for me, let me hear you." He urges you gently, even if his voice is filled with need. 
You let all your noises flow freely as you teeter toward the edge and desperately try to please him with the sounds you make. It's all too good, too much, too overwhelming. 
"Johnny, can I—" 
His demand is out of his mouth before you can even finish your sentence. "Cum fer me, bonnie. Go on." 
You cum with a strangled cry, flying over the edge right as Johnny demands it. The build-up of the past few days along with Johnny's noises has you shaking in ecstasy—ecstasy that's only prolonged when he cums too with a long, drawn-out groan.
After a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, as you come down from your high. 
"Oh my god." You sigh, a silly, blissed-out grin overtaking your features.
"You okay, sweet girl?" His voice returns to that sweetness you're coming to know and love.
You nod mindlessly, even though he can't see you. "Better than okay, are you?" 
He hums in affirmation, before his voice turns a touch serious. "You did so good. Just want tae make sure you're good, and a didn't go too far." 
"Hah, I mean, nowhere near too far." You admit shakily. 
"Am glad, it's only early days, though. That trust..." He hesitates. 
"... It takes a while, yeah." The post-orgasmic bliss coupled with the feeling of that trust taking root and growing. "I'm glad you understand." 
And he understands perfectly, as you never feel pushed or rushed, only pampered and adored. 
"Of course... it's special, for both of us." He admits, and you know you're on the same wavelength when it comes to the bond and relationship between dominant and submissive. 
"Mhmm." You hum dreamily, wholeheartedly agreeing and yet not able to summon up something profound. 
"Already sleepy?" His laughter is soft and sincere. 
"I'd get so much rest if every night was like this." 
"Even more so when I finally get to fuck ya, bonnie." He whispers so casually, yet even after your orgasm your clit still thrums with interest—God, he has such a hold on you.
"Yeah?" You sigh, dreaming of the day you'll get to experience it. 
"Yeah." 
The line falls silent, and you feel yourself fading. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so... sleepy." You whisper while you still have the chance. 
"It's okay, sweet girl, close yer eyes. Am right here." Johnny's sweet voice lulls you closer and closer, and your phone falls free from your hand to your pillow, resting there with Johnny just on the end of the line. 
"Goodnight Johnny." You mumble, before sleep finally takes you.
"Goodnight, Bonnie." His reply is soft, carrying you off to unconsciousness as he drifts off too.  
-//-
Johnny practically vibrates where he stands—wired beyond belief. Part of it is his usual pre-mission adrenaline, but the events of the past few days especially almost have him climbing the walls. His energy is frenetic as usual but with so much more—lust, yearning, withdrawal. 
It's only been a few hours since he ended the call after waking up before you, and yet he finds his thoughts unable to leave you, even as he finishes gearing up. You'd love to see him like this, and an idea strikes him.
He pulls out his phone, turns to the man beside him, and hopes he doesn't regret asking. Then again, some ribbing from the masked man would be nothing compared to the floored reaction he'd get from you.
"Ghost?" He asks, piercing the comfortable silence between the two of them. 
"What?" Ghost turns, eyeing Johnny and his hand holding his outstretched phone.
Johnny doesn't waver, sure in his request, and eager to see your response. "Take a picture of me, yeah?" 
"Girl back home?" Ghost asks, cutting straight to the point as he takes the phone. "Is this the first time she's seeing you? Cause you look fuckin' rough." 
"No." Johnny frowns, and worry washes over him. Surely Lt. is just messing him around—he knows she'll be happy to see him either way. 
Ghost pulls off a glove and navigates to the camera before stepping back and holding up the phone in Johnny's direction. He might be giving Johnny shit, but he at least takes the time to angle and position the frame in a way that compliments Johnny's stature. "She like the tac gear?" 
Johnny sighs, wishing this was over already. "Just take the picture, Ghost." 
"Say cheese." Ghost deadpans, and the softest of smiles graces Johnny's features—for her, not for him.
Johnny practically snatches the phone back from Ghost's hands, checking out the photo immediately. "Thanks." 
He pulls up their messages immediately, firing off the picture with a kissing face and a teasing message just for her. 
When he locks the phone and throws it in his bag, Ghost's eyes are fixed on him, his blackened eyes narrowed.
"Mind on the mission, yeah, Johnny?" 
Johnny nods, doing his best to push thoughts of her away for now, and letting his inner soldier take over. He'll be back to her before he knows it. "Aye, Lt." 
Days later, and after a successful first phase of the mission, Johnny stares down at his phone. The signal is nonexistent and won't return for a while, but he misses you, his mind is itching with his need for you. In this shitty safe house in the middle of nowhere, while someone else is on watch, there's very little to do, and truly nothing else he'd rather think about. 
He scrolls to the top of your messages, rereading each message and reliving each conversation, experiencing all over again how each message made him feel. 
Your sweet texts, your copious use of emojis, and your cute little selfies—it was all so intoxicating to him. For a man who was so used to maintaining focus, you were a fucking curveball. Something about you just sends his protective instincts into overdrive, makes unearned possessive tendrils curl up through him and around his heart—calls out to his guiding, dominant, caring side.
He has to constantly stamp down the thoughts inside that called out to him to find you, scoop you up, and take you home with him. Luckily for you both, Johnny is a patient man. He spends time out in the field waiting days for anything interesting to happen, he's spent years waiting for his pet, his girl to come along—and you're right there. He can wait a little longer. 
He holds down the record button, intent on recording a message for you, and begins whispering into the phone.
"Hi, been sat on my arse for far too long with nothing to do but think of you. Dinnae think I'll get signal anytime soon, but I 'spose it'll send at some point." He feels himself relax just a little as he falls into Johnny, the man—rather than Soap, the soldier.
"Been thinking about our first date, since you mentioned coffee. Kinda had a crazy idea actually, but I need your input. What about a cat café? Has to be one in that city o' yours, and I figure you must like kitties."
"Won't be long until you might be one for me... or a bunny... or a puppy." He interrupts himself with a sigh.
"Need tae stop those thoughts and quit while I'm ahead. Let me know, yeah? As soon as I get my leave, we'll set it up."
"Talk soon, bonnie." 
824 notes · View notes
neuvistar · 7 months
Text
JUST FRIENDS? YEAH.. JUST FRENDS.
— featuring ┊ jing yuan x flreader × wriothesley (separate)
— warnings / content warnings ┊ not proofread. all consensual! desk s3x (jing yuan), blowie (wrio), implied friends w benefits, semi-public s3x, jing yuan's a lil mean, hair pulling (jing yuan), overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
— a/n ┊ WOOOO finally wrote sumn, i'm SOO late on asks it's acc kinda sad i'm so sorry guys work has been eating my ass for the past few days weeks months i'm so tired bye but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍
"c’mere, on my lap."
your relationship with jing yuan.. was quite an interesting one. on occasional days, you both would consider each other as close acquaintances! while on most days, you both would consider each other as friends with benefits. you never really had a problem with this kind of relationship you both shared and hid away from the rest of the world, it was just your thing with him.
so, it was no problem to you when jing yuan called you to his office to help "him" for tonight.
even though you were mostly the person going to him for pleasure, he was the one using you for pleasure. you couldn't help but feel that aching pain in your heart whenever you thought about what he always says about only using you as a mere object to pleasure himself. you would be lying if you said you weren't being a hypocrite because you felt exactly the same, but it still hurts and you don't understand why it does. no matter how hard you try to distance yourself from him so those thoughts wouldn't sink in, you couldn't. they always came back to delve you deeper into the depths of the sea, like it was hard to swim back up. you didn't know why the thought of you only being a mere fuck toy to him upset you.
soft yet pained yelps left your lips as his cock rubbed against your slit, slowly but steadily. the general put a hand to your mouth, shushing you and keeping you quiet as a low chuckle left his lips. "you're already whining and moaning on my cock, do you like it that much? i haven't even put it in yet." he cooed in your ear, that voice.. you hated that tone he used against you, that tone was enough to make your whole body weak. he knew the kind of affect he had on you, and he abused the hell out of it. that stupid voice.. you can't tell whether you want to kiss him or punch him.
"just put it in then." your legs gave in on you as you kept yourself comfortable overtop his desk, keeping your fingers near the ends.
“whatever you say, sweetheart.” despite this, jing yuan was always just as needy as you are. the general pushed your head against the hardness of his desk, his free hand on your hip as his cock bullied itself inside your walls, he was so much bigger than you.. it was a miracle that you could even take it all.
"fuck.. just fuck me, jing yuan. fuck me like you mean it!" jing yuan's lips curved into a smirk, a snicker slipping from his lips.
"someone's greedy tonight." he picked up the pace, skin slapping against one another harsher and harsher. "j-just like you every time we fuck. you can't talk."
"yeah? atleast i'm not begging for it. s' okay to admit it, pretty.
“i know love you my cock, that's why you come to my office so you could get fucked into oblivion, like the naughty girl you really are you moaned at his words, orgasm built up quickly inside you as you came all over his cock. “—and that's another way to show how much of a slut you are for my dick. i think that might just be our new record, dovey" you squirmed in his touch, mouth slightly hung agape as you squeezed your grip around the ends of the desk, eyes fluttering open when two pairs of hands squeezed your hips, jing yuan's thrusts showed no signs of stopping. "it'd be such a shame if someone walked in right now and saw how much of a slut you are for the general's cock. i think your reputation would hit rock bottom, wouldn't you think?"
the desk creaked lightly beneath your warm body, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “just imagine how everyone would react if they saw you like this, in this state. i'd love to see the look on their faces.. mm.. it'd be such a shame, wouldn't it? moan louder for me, let me hear you. let everyone hear just how well i fuck you." jing yuan's fingers interlaced with your own, his heavy breaths increasing as his chest heaved, burying his face in your shoulder, clenching his teeth when your walls squeezed around him.
"fuck." he leaned down,"you're nothing more than a stress reliever for me.. this pretty pussy, is mine. mine to cum into, mine to fuck, and mine alone. understand?"
you guys were just friends. just friends? yeah. just friends.
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𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
you couldn't count just how many times you and wriothesley had almost been caught for your shenanigans, it was risky having to fuck in his office. the fortress, and the people within were always on the move. it was hard to even get into his damn office thanks to all the visitors he always has, asking him stupid questions or speak about some stupid unrelated topic. wriothesley is a close friend of yours, you can't deny that.. but you also can't deny just how good he can use his dick.
the fortress was busy one day, all hands were on deck as almost everyone was on the move. this was odd, but you knew it must've been wriothesley's doings. you both took the risk at last as you were beneath his desk, kneeling down as your cheek was pressed up against his thigh, lazily stroking his hardened cock. "you seem stressed. how has your day been?" your voice brought butterflies to his stomach, he always loved hearing it.. just like how he loved hearing your moans he was gonna bring out of you tonight, "nothing much, i just missed you." his large hand caressed your cheek, a small smile painted on his lips. before you knew it, he already had two hands on your head.. rubbing the tip of his cock right against your mouth.
slapping his dick against your tongue, your mouth engulfed him whole. wriothesley's moans in bed were unmatched you say, they were like the call to celestia. your tongue was warm against his shaft, staring up at him with that same sweet look on your eyes. wriothesley's breath catches in his throat when he moans your name. he pressed himself closer into you, your lips gently caressing his skin as each suck if his dick was as soft as a butterfly's wings, yet the passion behind them is overwhelming.. overwhelming him with pleasure all over. he used his two hands to thrust himself against your lips.
"fuck yeah, open that pretty mouth even wider for me. i missed your mouth.. i missed you. i missed you so damn much, baby." wriothesley's stare was enough to hypnotize anyone, the glow of affection filling his eyes as he watches his cock go in and out of your mouth. your lips move against him, savoring the taste and touch of his cock as if it were a sweet treat. the male's fingers ran through your hair in a soft motion, thrusting himself deep into your mouth.. fucking your mouth with a sense of urgency and desperation in his hips. a small chuckle came from his throat as he watched small tears trickle down your cheeks, the intensity of the moment you were both sharing immediately paused when he heard someone banging on his door. "sir! you got a new package!—“ wriothesley didn't bother answering, groaning at the warmth of your mouth.. he could feel himself getting closer and closer.. just a bit more!—
the same worker barged into the room. wriothesley quickly fixed his position as he played it off like he was looking through his drawers, his eyes travelling up to his sudden visitor. "oh sorry, i'm in a hurry so, what do you need?" your mouth was still attached to his cock as you grumbled against it, clearly he wasn't secure enough. but... well! it's not bad to tease him a little now, is it? your tongue began to swirl against his member sucking him harder than before, making sure he heard even the quietest slurping sounds.. almost forcing a sudden moan from his lips. "—yes.. i see. just put the package there and leave."
oh.. you were definitely gonna get it that day.
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I've seen a couple of people complaining that the Captain didn't get a Coming Out Scene so that means it's Bad Rep, and I think they're missing the point a bit.
Like, sure, it would have been nice to see him finally come out but also, he doesn't have to? Personally I think it's amazing that ThemThere managed to create a character who isn't openly gay but is so obviously gay that we all just know without him having to say it. It's clear that they put a lot of thought and care into all the signs - the way he looks at the guys he has crushes on, the little offhand comments about Mike making a very fine soldier or the builder being handsome, the references to queer culture (Dorothy, Elton John, Cole Porter etc). They didn't half-ass this. They knew exactly what they were doing, and they were careful and subtle about it.
Also, we know the Captain's personality by now, right? He only talks openly about personal matters when he feels it's absolutely necessary, like when he's explaining about the bomb in "Redding Weddy" and explaining how he died in "Carpe Diem", and he doesn't seem particularly comfortable in either of these instances. He was alive in a time when he either wasn't allowed or didn't feel that he could be open about who he was, and seeing as he's sort of stuck in that time, what with him still acting like the war's continuing, he's obviously still heavily repressed. And it's in character. It makes sense for him to still be closeted. And of course, throughout the show he does gradually learn to relax and open up a bit, but he's not a fan of change anyway so it also makes sense that it takes a while for him to do that. As shown in "Gone Gone" after Mary moves on, he'd rather keep himself busy than talk about feelings.
And this is more a personal preference here, but I really really love seeing a gay character who isn't out. Now this doesn't mean I don't like openly gay characters, I love them too. But we see quite a lot of them, and it's just nice to have something a bit different. The Captain means so much to me as representation because while he's not openly gay, it's still very clear that he is gay. He's not a queerbait character, because they haven't hinted that he's gay and then revealed that he's actually straight. They've purposefully made the Captain gay, and there's barely any ambiguity, so even though he never says, "I'm gay," you'd have to be a fool to think he's anything but.
Queer people don't suddenly become queer when they come out. Just saying the words, "I'm gay," doesn't make someone gay. Being gay makes someone gay. That's it.
And the Captain is gay. That's it.
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icaruspendragon · 4 months
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i hope this isn't too personal of a question (and if it is that's totally cool, i was literally just curious as a fellow aspec person), but i was wondering what some of your thoughts were about being aspec, like it's totally cool if your thoughts were just the post you reblogged!!! that's honestly still putting into words a bit a similar way i figured out i was aspec, but i know you seem to have really interesting takes on things/conclusions you've realized about things a lot of the time and so i was just curious what thoughts were turning around your head about being aspec
I don't mind talking about it at all!
So for me sex is like this perfunctory, borderline tedious thing. I almost want to call it a chore, but that has negative connotations that don't exactly match up with how I feel about it. It's like something on a to do list, or like running an errand.
Think of it this way: For me, having sex is akin to going to the pharmacy. Actually, it's more like being asked to go for someone else. It's not on my list of things I enjoy doing and there are other things I would rather do, but I don't mind going if someone asks me to. But once in a blue moon I do actually want to go because I want candy or a Juneberry Red Bull or some shit like that and Walgreens happens to be nearby.
Media builds up sex to be this incredible and awesome and amazing thing that everyone wants to have, which is at odds with the widely held societal belief that it's uncouth to discuss sex openly with others. So if media says "yes you should want this" and society says "but you shouldn't talk about it with others because it's an incredibly private act" it makes it kinda difficult when you don't feel the way you're "supposed to." And then when you do talk about how you don't feel that way, people say there's something wrong with you or that you haven't found the right person or that maybe you need to change things up in the bedroom or that you need to go to a doctor because it's gotta be a hormonal imbalance or something. The list really does go on and on.
And so many of my expectations surrounding sex were informed by fanfic where I read, in detail, about how good it was supposed to feel. About all the different ways it could feel good.
I wanted it to be like that for me, for it to be as good as I had read and seen and heard others talk about, so I kept on trying. And sometimes I enjoyed it. Not E rated fanfic enjoyed it, but it was nice. Nice in the same way a cup of tea is nice, but nice nonetheless.
But most of the time it was like, clinical? Like I was acutely aware of what was happening, if that makes sense. I was thinking about the mechanics of it, what was going in where. I was thinking about how it was "supposed to feel" versus how it actually felt. I would wonder how much longer it would take because I was getting bored. Sometimes I would think about how rude it would be if I checked my phone. And probably the most upsetting (retrospectively) thing I would think about was if my act of enjoyment was convincing enough. And I didn't ever want to tell a partner that I wasn't enjoying it because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Because I thought it was a me problem. That there was something wrong with me. And there being something wrong with me wasn't fair to whoever I was with. I just needed to grin and bear it, so to speak.
At one point I had a bit of a gay panic where I thought wasn't bisexual and actually a lesbian. The panic was over the confusion, not over the potential lesbianism. Lesbians are awesome. But I learned that while sexual intimacy with women was a bit easier, my feelings (or lack thereof) about sex were still the same. And that meant there was something wrong with me in particular.
I know now that my perspective was warped and my thoughts about myself were both unkind and untrue, but that was a lot to try and reconcile as a 19 year old who already thought she was undesirable. Constantly being called a "late bloomer" and not having your first relationship until you're a sophomore in college sure does a number on your self esteem. Which in turn does a number on your perception of yourself.
Then as I got older, I got more queer friends. And I talked to those queer friends. And they talked about sex differently than my straight friends did. More openly and honestly. With less fanfare. And it was during those discussions that I heard about experiences similar to mine. And it helped me realize I wasn't broken. Well, that and google.
And now I stand before you today, an aspec bisexual able to joke about being horny in theory but not in application. It's nice not feeling broken anymore. But I think it's even nicer now knowing that I was never broken in the first place.
Sometimes sex is nice, but most of the time, it's just going to the pharmacy. And both of those things are okay.
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thatfandomslut · 3 months
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Falling Off a Bridge
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Regina George x ChildhoodBestFriend!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: angst, this one is v sad
Request: Valentine's / Followers Celebration Request; Regina George w/ quote 42 and piece of chocolate 6. Or: "Can't you see? Every step I have taken, since I was that little girl on the bridge, was to bring me closer to you." w/ unrequited love
Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.
When (Y/n) first met Regina, they were both ten. (Y/n), ever the clumsy person had almost fallen off the small, slippery bridge that was covered in moss and algae. It was especially slippery on that day because it had been raining. Regina, who even at that age, adorned pink, grabbed her by the back of the coat keeping her from falling. That was also the day (Y/n) first realized her feelings for the blonde. After Regina had saved her, she introduced the girl to her friends, Gretchen, Karen, and Janis. That's when their little group expanded to one more member. Within the group, Regina and (Y/n) quickly became best friends.
They might have lost Janis throughout the years, but they did gain Cady. (Y/n) was the one to convince Regina to allow the strawberry blonde to join them. Though, if she knew then what she knew now, she never would have gone through with it. Regina, her childhood best friend (and crush), had fallen in love with Cady. So, as (Y/n) lay in Regina's bed with her misty eyes trained on the ceiling, Regina's soft side came out as she expressed all of the things she liked about Cady. There was a constricting feeling on (Y/n)'s chest and she almost felt queasy, not daring to make eye contact with Regina. The things (Y/n) had heard about Cady were the way she had always wanted Regina to talk about her.
Eventually, Regina did make her move on Cady, and she ended up reciprocating Regina's feelings. So, (Y/n) had to endure several lunches and hang-out sessions with their public displays of affection unintentionally being thrown in her face. Despite all of Gretchen and Karen's comforts, (Y/n) slowly began to pull away from the group. This action did not go unnoticed by Regina, who was constantly trying to get (Y/n) to join them when they went to the mall or had a group sleepover. She felt hurt when she realized that (Y/n) was slowly pulling herself out of their friendship. She wasn't ready to let go of her best friend.
That was why Regina ended up in (Y/n)'s driveway. After checking her location on their group Life360 (they had it just in case any of them went out with a guy- not that any of them would), Regina rang the doorbell. She grinned when (Y/n) answered the door, but her grin didn't last when she realized that (Y/n) seemed to not be sharing that feeling. Quickly, she recovered from the sharp pain of sadness that passed through her chest, trying to think of what to say. "I haven't seen you at lunch in like a week, so I wanted to come check on. I just wanted to make sure everything was good between you and me." Regina offered her explanation, hoping (Y/n) would finally talk to her. After all, she was one of the only people Regina had a soft spot for.
(Y/n) sighed softly, as she thought about everything she wanted to say in that moment. She didn't want to just spill out all of her frustrations, but the inviting look in Regina's eyes almost made her. Instead, she opened the door a bit more to invite her in. Regina slipped in, feeling like this was a start. (Y/n), however; felt like this was the end. "I haven't been at lunch because it's… It's been hard to watch you and Cady." (Y/n) explained, waiting for Regina to do exactly what she did to Janis. She was going to say that she was 'obsessed' with her and then put her out on the curb.
Regina's brows furrowed as she looked at (Y/n) for a few long moments in confusion. "If this is about finding a significant other, we can do that for you. I can talk to Aaron and see if he knows anyone that would be interested. Do you want to date anyone from the football team?" Regina questioned, trying to figure out a possible solution. She didn't know that finding a girlfriend would push (Y/n) away. But just because she was single didn't mean they couldn't all hang out.
"Regina, I'm in love with you." Oh. That's why (Y/n) was pulling away. Regina's fingers twitched, but she was unsure of what she should do. She wanted to comfort her friend, but she didn't necessarily know how to. (Y/n) looked absolutely broken as she stared at Regina for a few long moments. "Can't you see? Every step I have taken, since I was that little girl on the bridge, was to bring me closer to you. All I ever wanted was to be closer to you. To be with you. Now, I never will even have a chance. I still want to be your friend, I- I just need time."
Regina nodded shakily as she listened to everything (Y/n) said. She couldn't respond. Of course, there was once a time when if (Y/n) had said that, she would've kissed her on the spot. But she was with Cady now, and she really liked Cady. She wondered for a moment if Gretchen and Karen knew about this. If they had just kept it from her. "Regina," (Y/n)'s voice broke her from her thoughts. "Can you please leave? We can talk about this later… I just need to be alone right now." Regina understood.
Before she left, she gave (Y/n) a quick hug. "I just want you to know, I still want to be your best friend. When you're ready, please just let me know." Regina's words caused (Y/n)'s bottom lip to tremble as she watched Regina walk away. Once Regina was fully out of sight, (Y/n) sunk the wall, feeling worse than she had earlier. With that said, there was always a new sense of happiness when she let it sink in that Regina still wanted to be her friend. But that was all they'd ever be. Friends.
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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: dance macabre—ghost
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧
• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name
• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut
• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person
• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought males him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own
• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."
• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."
• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you
• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile
• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."
• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands
• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin
• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."
• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"
• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding
𝐒𝐚𝐦
• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment
• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases
• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put
• "How'd you know that?"
• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."
• "Oh. Right"
• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it
• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"
• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."
• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again
• "Can I see it?"
• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions
• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"
• "Buddy, I have no idea."
𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥
• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel
• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask
• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves
• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point
• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly
• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in
• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it
• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."
• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it
• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt
• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books
• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."
• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."
𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥
• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down
• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically
• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them
• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are slimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read
• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"
• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working
• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head
• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud
• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous
• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"
• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you
• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it
• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations
• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"
• Oh shit.
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avatar-anna · 6 months
Text
Bruises
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"I feel so...hollow," you said, your voice breaking on the last word. "But—But like my feelings are so heavy they could drown me at the same time. I don't—I don't know when it started, but I can't remember how to be happy without waiting to be punished for it later."
Tears were tracking stains down your cheeks like small rivers, leaking out of your eyes faster than you could stop them. Not that you tried to, anyway, even that seemed exhausting. One thing you could do was avoid Harry's gaze. You felt it like a severe burn as he practically begged you to look at him, but you just couldn't. Not while you were so vulnerable. You felt stripped bare, even more so than the number of times the two of you had been intimate.
"Y/n—"
"Don't," you said, nearly leaping out of your skin when he rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him then, saw the pain in his eyes at your rejection of his touch. But you couldn't handle it. Your soul felt raw as you said things you never thought you would out loud. "Please don't, I can't—"
Harry seemed to understand as he nodded and took a step back, but the concerned furrow of his brow remained, his fingers curling awkwardly at his sides. He'd always been the type to communicate through touch—a squeeze on the shoulder, a tip of your chin, a gentle nose nudge on your cheek, a hand never far away from your person. You knew that he craved touch to comfort people, and yet he stayed put. For that you were thankful, and it helped you find your words again.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," you said, almost too quietly for anything but your thoughts to hear. "I—I don't know why I'm feeling like this, or how I got here, I—I just feel like I'm stuck in this emptiness."
Saying all of that made you want to run and hide. Harry didn't need to know all this, how wrecked you really were inside. No one did. He was just someone who happened to be around when you were at your worst. Normally you were able to keep a lid on your darkest thoughts, but he'd come over when you were in the thick of it, and you couldn't exactly hide how you felt when you were crying uncontrollably for virtually no reason other than it was a Tuesday afternoon and life suddenly felt like one big chore.
Maybe it was the holiday, seeing everyone so happy, hearing songs about falling in love and kissing under mistletoes and commercials that said, "The perfect gift for that someone special!" Being surrounded by so much cheer only left you feeling more hollowed out, more lost than you'd ever thought you'd become.
"Y/n, why—why didn't you say something sooner?"
"Like what?" you laughed bitterly. "That I cry at the drop of a hat and can't handle light teasing from my friends? That I haven't felt right for weeks and getting out of bed feels like a chore? We—That's not who we are to each other. I—I have no one."
The words clanged around, grasping onto your heartstrings and convincing you it was true. You had friends and family, but when the darkness reared its ugly head, you always felt hopelessly and inescapably alone. Words deserted you when you needed them most, leaving you to smile and pinch your skin, trying your best not to cry in line at the grocery store or while sitting at your desk at work. It was all too much, too much to handle, and yet you didn't want anyone else but you to share that load, the weight of your inexplicable despair.
"Do you honestly think that?" Harry asked. You couldn't even dignify him with an answer. It had been humiliating to say it once, let alone look him in the eye and say it again. So you just shrugged and wiped your cheek. "You're my friend, Y/n, and I care about you. I'm sorry if I haven't done enough to make you know that."
"It's not just you, H," you sniffled, feeling bad for making Harry uncomfortable. It wasn't his job to make you feel better. Your problems were yours to bear alone. They always had been. "I don't—I don't know how to do this."
"Do what, love?"
Despite the discomfort of having shared so much, Harry's gentle voice felt like a warm blanket over your shoulders. It made you finally look up to meet his eye. You were surprised to see so much emotion held in them, but you didn't shy away from it like you thought you would. It helped fill that hollow ache a little, made you feel a little less alone.
"I don't know how to deal with this any other way," you said, trying to explain. "I don't...I hate sharing this stuff with people. It makes my skin crawl."
Your body felt heavy, your soul weary, as if no amount of shed tears or leaning on shoulders would ever ebb the emptiness that was taking over you. But you didn't want the pity. You didn't want anyone to worry or look at you differently because of how sensitive you tended to be sometimes. To deal with the myriad of moods that swung on a pendulum day to day, sometimes moment to moment. The pressure of feeling like you should reach out and ask for help was almost worse than the emptiness and despair.
"This is a good start," Harry said, inching just a tiny bit closer. "I just don't want you to think you can't talk to me. You can, Y/n, and I'll listen, or give you space, or help you find professional help, or do whatever it takes to make you smile. Just let me be here for you."
The notion didn't sit well with you at first. It wasn't how you dealt with things, though clearly your methods weren't working. That didn't make letting Harry in any less scary, or any easier. But Harry was still here. You'd broken down, shared just how broken you really were, and he was still here, asking to be someone for you to confide in.
Harry had been your friend for a long time. You ran in the same circles and saw each other often enough that you'd consider him to be someone you were close to. It wasn't until your arrangement that you got to know him more. You'd never had a friends with benefits situation before, but you never imagined it to be so easy. Rules had been sketched out, boundaries were made and kept, and things between you just seemed to work. Even when you didn't see each other for a week or two at a time, there was no awkwardness.
There was no jealousy at parties or possessiveness; you were exclusive, but okay with the idea of ending things should either of you meet someone you wanted to explore a relationship with. You and Harry just clicked—two friends who happened to sleep with each other, companions who could hold conversations about their jobs amicably, yet knew every inch of each other's bodies intimately. And now Harry was offering something more, something different.
Nodding, you said, "Thank you."
Harry gave you a small grin, then tentatively reached a hand out to wipe away a stray tear. You let him, not feeling like a startled animal anymore. You knew part of you should've felt embarrassed that Harry had caught you in such a state, that you'd let him see how broken and hurting you were on the inside, and maybe a small part of you did, but you mostly just felt like a weight had lifted off your chest.
"Can I get you anything? Maybe a cup of tea?" he asked, leading you over to your kitchen counter as if it was his home, not yours.
You let him, content to watch him move around your kitchen as if it was his own. He'd been over to your place enough times to know his way around and know how you took your tea.
Sitting in silence, you watched as Harry took a mug that looked like a gingerbread man and one that had a textured, cable-knit sweater design from your cabinet and fixed up two cups of tea. His shoulders flexed beneath his loose shirt, dark brown curls curving every which way at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of this moment was comforting after such an emotionally taxing and foreign afternoon. Harry was here as often as your busy schedules would allow, or you were at his place, neither of you concerned with how much time you spent together.
Though today you hadn't expecting to see him, hence the emotional breakdown. You didn't really plan those kinds of things, but you'd been feeling more down than usual and had been seeing Harry less and less recently as a result. Every text about a next meet-up, whether that was to get lunch or have sex or anything in between, had been rebuffed quickly and kindly. Today he'd shown up out of the blue.
"H?"
"Yeah?" he said, his back still to you.
"Why did you come over today? Y—You didn't text like you normally do."
Harry looked over his shoulder briefly, a small smile playing at his lips. "We hadn't seen each other in a while," he said breezily. "Which is fine, I know we're both busy, but I just had this distinct feeling you were avoiding me."
"I'm sorry," you said, finding it easier to say it when his back was to you. "I don't mean to do that."
"I know," Harry said, that same gentle and easy tone in his voice. "I've always known you're squirrelly about feelings."
You huffed at his choice of words, trying to focus on his humor rather than the fact that he seemed to know you better than you thought he did. You appreciated that he didn't state the obvious, which was that you went way past "squirrelly." The last hour had been emotionally taxing, and you appreciated that Harry offered you a modicum of normalcy.
"Thank you for checking up on me," you said. "You're a good friend, H."
Perhaps better than I deserve, was what you didn't say, because you knew he would scold you for even thinking it.
"Well, my visit wasn't totally innocent," Harry teased as he finally came over with two steaming mugs of tea, yours done just right. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, but didn't say anything more than that.
Raising your brows, you said, "Ah. You couldn't find anyone to watch Hallmark Christmas movies with you, could you?"
Harry chuckled into his mug, taking the excuse you both knew was a lie and ran with it. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I knew you'd understand."
"I wouldn't say to no a cheesy Christmas movie."
"Promise me you'll tell me when you're feeling like this again," Harry said a while later.
You could tell Harry was trying to hide his eagerness to pull you into your room and fire up your TV. His eyes scanned over you briefly, as if he was trying to assess where you were at mentally. It would be hard to see that stare, to know Harry had seen you at your lowest and would constantly be gauging if you were on the verge of another breakdown. But the thought didn't irritate you the way you thought it would. You were surprised to feel a little relieved that you weren't the only one taking care of you, at least for the time being.
You were huddled under a mountain of blankets together. Twinkly lights in your bedroom casting a warm light over you both. You'd meant to put them up earlier in the month, but hadn't made yourself get around to it, the small task falling to the wayside the same way a lot of your everyday chores did. Harry took one look at the forgotten box of lights and got to work, even going as far as putting a looped video of a roaring fireplace in his phone and setting it up next to your television. It was a little silly, and a tad over the top, but you appreciated it all the same, the lengths he was going to ease the ache in your chest as best he could.
He was practically on top of you now, but unlike the events of today, that was something you were used to. Harry liked to sprawl out, specifically with you underneath him—leg over your waist, arm tucked across you to keep you close, face buried in your neck or chin resting on top of your head. He insisted on draping himself over you like a blanket, even before you started sleeping together.
"I don't want to bother you—"
"Bother me, Y/n," Harry said, his voice gravelly as he gently turned your face to meet his gaze. "I'm not doing my job as your friend if I'm only with you when things are easy or—or good. You're not alone, okay? As long as I'm in your life, I'm in it. Good and bad."
"I'll try."
You tried to blink back tears, a little surprised you had any left to shed. Your face was undeniably puffy and a little dry, and you were tired in a different way than you had been the last few weeks. But these were different tears from earlier. A different emotion took over you as you nodded.
That seemed to satisfy Harry. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes against it, allowing yourself to believe everything he'd said to you today.
You weren't magically fixed, that crushing weight was still waiting for you like a monster under your bed, but you weren't alone. Harry had turned the lights on, showing you that perhaps there was no shame in letting someone see the worst parts of you. Because he was still there, promising to hold your hand and help you until you felt whole again.
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starlight-bread-blog · 9 months
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Why Stolas is a Terrible Person/Character
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Oh this will be long. In this post I will cover why Stolas is a character that fundamentally fails at everything it tries to accomplish. I probably have to say that you can love Stolas. That's just why I hate him.
Trigger warnings for: Racism, casteism, power dynamics, sexual assault, sa apologism, abuse, and neglectful parenting. A lot, I know, but that's Stolas.
His Actions in S1
Despite the title, there will be two examples from season 2.
Racism/Casteist
Stolas is from the upper caste, a royal. He seem to often fetishize imps, or the fact that he's sleeping with someone who's less than him. I even saw fans pointing this out. He have empathized Blitzø being an imp in a sexual context.
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(Notice the use of words: "little", "plaything", to me this is blatant racism and fetishism).
He also showed a certain lack of empathy for his imp butler.
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Stolas isn't particularly violent, he doesn't choke people left and right. He's just angry, at Stella, so he decides to.. choke the imp.
Stolas has been dehumanizimg imps. Fetishizing an imp for being an imp, calling him an "impish little plaything", and he has been willing to choke an imp just because he was angry at something unrelated. He's racist and casteist.
Treatment of Blitzø
"Treatment" is putting it lightly. In the first episode, Stolas does something inexcusable that will taint their dynamic for all of season 1. First, he sees Blitzø in a vulnerable position, where he cannot think or negotiate. Thus, stripping him of what little choice he has on what he's about to offer.
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What Stolas is saying is, "Fuck me or I'll shut down your business". This deal he makes is just a threat with extra steps. Which, is a real life abuse tactic called Quid Pro Quo:
"Quid pro quo harassment occurs when someone in a position of authority over another directly or indirectly demands sexual favors in exchange for some benefit, or to avoid some detriment in the workplace".
One element I haven't brought up yet, is the political power imbalance. Stolas is royalty, one with a lot of power, influence, credibility, etc. Blitzø has non of that. Other characters have commented on that the fact that Blitzø even has a business is a miracle.
There are so many layers of imbalance and how Blitzø has no choice or agency. A royal is """offering""" the powerless a Quid Pro Quo while he's in a life threatening situation.
And their dynamic looks exactly like you'd imagen. Stolas is consistently sexualizing him against his consent. (As it's been established, Stolas's racism feeds into this). And refuses to do the surface level courtesy, not even calling him his real name (x).
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Stolas treats Blitzø as a lesser being, violates his boundries, forces himself on him, and strips him of all autonomy.
Faliure as a Father
Stolas's role as a father is directly tackled in Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars. At the beginning, both episodes show Stolas being a good father to Octavia, but does this still hold true in the currect day? Well, no.
In Loo Loo Land, Stolas wants to take Octavia to a theme park. Octavia is 17, and Stolas ignores her when she says she doesn't want to go. (In retrospect, Stolas coud be oblivious because he's projecting onto Via his experience meeting Blitzø).
But that's just the start. Stolas then invites Blitzø to the trip and harasses with him all throughout. Essentially, Stolas is forcing his daughter to watch as he harasses "the homewrecker", all the while he's supposed to be with her, on a trip she didn't even want to go to.
After a whole day of this, as expected, Octavia runs away. Stolas chases her. (And of course, he's still thinking of Blitzø on his way to find Via). There's an apology scene that looks deep, but when you dissect it, it's rather empty.
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Stolas never actually provided an explanation as to why he just did what he did, nor of the "drama" with Stella. There is nothing here. Octavia only makes up with him because he said he isn't gonna leave her. Which is bare minimum.
After he realizes that his affair hurts his daughter to the point where she feared he's gonna leave her, what does he do? What practical actions does he take to improve? Divorce Stella? Cut off his deal with Blitzø? Explained the situation?
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Nothing. And now we see he's willing to stand up on a stage and let people know.
In Seeing Stars, Stolas bashes Via's mother to her. Which, does she know about their situation? Does she not? She isn't shown to hate or.. anything Stella. Is he hiding the situation (which I'll cover), while also trashing her mother? That's impulsive and negligent.
But that's nothing. She later runs away, Stolas is stressed as he should be, but the second they arravie on earth he's all calm and everything's normal.
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When his daughter is missing. When he is shown to be stressed, it's for the sake of plot. But he's willing to just chill, watching Blitzø's show.
Stolas is, dare I say it, neglectful. He might care about his daughter, but he's proven that she's not enough of a priority to focus on her when it matters.
Cheating
Yes, I know what ended up being revealed, I'll cover that. In season 1, the relationship is presented to not be perfect before Stolas cheated.
But there were instances that showed that what Stolas did changed their relationship for the worse. (Some additional rebuttals).
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It could have been a loveless marrige, they could hae fallen out of love, they could have been arranged. But their relationship was manageable. Love or no love, it's a committed relationship. and Stella didn't deserve to get cheated on.
Who was Stolas?
Stolas's behavior is common among royals. Stella has no problem throwing said butler at Stolas (S1 E2), and the Goetias are shown to be casteist. They're untouchable privileged assholes.
Stolas was born that wealth, never having to suffer the consequences of his actions. Always putting himself first, hurting others. He doesn't mean to, he wants for everyone to be happy, he does care.
However, when it actually matters, he acts on his worst tendecises with no self control. He never had to learn self control. That is, until Ozzie's.
Before Ozzie, Blitzø and Stolas are at obligation. Stolas's actions had tainted them. There was one redeemable moment: He saved Blitzø's life. Stolas did something for him. But this one act of goodness doesn't magically fix anything.
Stolas's family life have been escalating. Stella hated Stolas for cheating and his daughter just had to take it. In Loo Loo Land, he learns the full weight of the damage he caused. And in the next episode we see him, he proceeds to take no steps to improve the situation. In the end of that same episode, we learn that Stella hired an assasin after him. Because he did nothing.
The season 1 finale, Ozzie's, is aware of all of this and absolutly delivers.
The episode starts with seeing Stolas alone, in his big house, miserable. It appears that Stella finally left the house. (Also he later says "Octavia is with her mother this weekend"). He's eating a bowl of cereal, pitying himself, wallowing in his despair. You feel bad for him, he looks so torn down.
And then Blitzø calls. The one he loves, asks him on a serious date. It's hope, it's honest, and it's exactly what he wanted. It's almost as if the universe handed him is fairytale scenario.
Almost. Reality smacks him right in the face on that date. Asmodeus calls him out on losing everything he had. He had a family, a happy daughter, but gave it all up for an affair.
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Blitzø calls him out on treating him like a pet, not earning any of that emotional connection he wants or even communicating it, just violating him, they have nothing.
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The show held him accountable and called him out. While it's not perfect, Stolas is a morally grey character. Now, a character arc was set up where he learns to treat people better. Stolas is exactly the character I want to see from a show like Helluva Boss. He's a horrible person, but nuanced, who does care.
Season 2
Yeah... all of that is thrown out the window. Because apparently, Stolas is just imperfect. He simply made a lot of mistakes. He misread a lot of situations, really it's all just an accident. He's an oblivious victim. So, let's get into the woobification of Stolas.
Surrounded by Evil
In The Circus we're given Stolas's ✨️backstory✨️. And we find out he had such a terrible life.
Stella is, and always was, an abusive evil bitch. From the day she was born. Pure evil.
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So you see, Stolas did nothing wrong. Let me be clear, you are not obligated to stay loyal to your abuser. We can erase "cheater" off the list. But that's the only reason why it's done. So we can erase that off the list, and that we could feel oh-so-sad for him.
Because Stella isn't written to be an abuser. She's a cartoonishly evil. We see a picture of her as a kid where she's the same person. Spongebob villians have more depth than her, you know, the abuser in the adult show.
Helluva Boss reversed an established dynamic where Stella is the victim and Stolas is at fault, except without any of the depth or nuance.
But that's not all. Stolas's dad (Paimon) is also neglectful. By "neglectful" I mean, of course, a Saturday-morning cartoon villain.
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He doesn't remember his name. This is such bullshit. I can buy Stolas having a horrible father. It's also not bad to show Stolas's trauma. What is bad is that the subject matter is handled with less seriousness as the fish fight in Spring Broken. And Helluva Boss did write Crimson as a serious abuser, the episode did have comedy, but not Paimon.
The reason why all of this is happening, is so we could feel bad for Stolas. They do zero of the work to earn a good story about abuse, but still go "Do you see how sad he is? Look at how they're treating this poor baby!!"
"Recontextualization"
In said ✨️backstory✨️, we also learn that Stolas and Blitzø are childhood friends. But also not really, they just hung out for one day. Where did this come from? How does that enrich the characters? I would tell you, but I don't know. However, what I'm sure of, is that it's done to make Stolas look less problematic.
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DO YOU SEE HOW CUT THIS IS? He isn't just horny for that imp, he is special, it's absoultly pure! Don't worry, totally safe.
Later in the flashback, we see how Blitzø and Stolas reconnected after over 20 years. Apparently... Blitzø was the one who sexually manipulated Stolas, selling him that he wants him.
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All Stolas did was just buying into Blitzø's narrative he was imposed on. It's a role he leaned into, because he thought Blitzø liked it. I.. WHAT???
If this horseshit is true, why did he make this weird r*pe deal with Blitzø? If Blitzø was the one who acted like he's interested at first, and he was sexually exploiting him, why did he lash out at Stolas in Ozzie's? Did it just hold no weight for Stolas? It went from "Don't pretend to have something when you've been harassing me this whole time" to "You misunderstood".
The Stolitz backstory makes no sense, it's cheap, and fixes nothing. No matter what the story is trying to sell, in season 1 Stolas knew what's happening enough to try to force it. And maybe Stolas wanted Blitzø because of a connection, he still harassed, dehumanized and violated him.
Note: Stolas realizing "he imagened the relationship" is completely ignored one episode later in Seeing Stars. This is a huge deal, didn't he learn? Just further evidence that he's willing to violate the guy. (x)
Before this backstory, we had a story of a selfish man hurting the person he loves while explointing the broken system and the power that he has over him for his own selfish desires that he's forcing on him. Now, we have the same thing, but with fanfic tropes – and the story refuses to confront that.
Casteism is Brushed Off
Helluva Boss pretends that Stolas isn't racist, because he didn't want Blitzø for being an imp, but for being his fanfic trope childhood friend. Which fails to adress the disgusting fetishism of Blitzø for being an imp, and he also continued to dehumanize his imp butler in Seeing Stars. He's still racist.
Imperfect Father
In The Circus, Stolas devivers this line: "The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty, was for that girl to have a normal life".
Sounds impressive, he stayed all these years just for his daughter. But that's the thing – it sounds impressive. Every time their relationship is the focus, Stolas is being the scum of the earth. What I see here, is a person. A person who despite being willing to stay passive, acts on his his selfish wants, forgetting to look around him. Mind you, this fact is also being revealed one episode after Ozzie's.
But no, one episode later, in Seeing Stars – that was covered as a prime example of everything I just descriped – Loona says this:
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Yeah. He's just a good father "trying" his "best" and makes some.. "mistakes". The Circus did present Stolas as this, but Seeing Stars really solidified how his parenting will be handled moving forward. And I think it's comlete and utter dogshit.
Damsel in Distress
The title is a bit misleading. This section is mainly about Stolas's power being toned down. Both magical and in presentation.
In season 1, he was energetic and enthusiastic, while being able to set his foot down and intimidate when needed. He's still all of those things, but in some instances his characterization made my raise an eyebrow.
In Seeing Stars, he's being weirdly gentle with people kidnapping Blitzø and are later beatting him.
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In Oops, he's excited to start negotiating with literal kidnappers. I have no idea why he's so nice.
(He did harass Blitzø again in Seeing Stars and bashed Striker, all of which isn't soft, but it's also the two moments where he should have shut up).
Further more, both of these conflict rely on Stolas not using his powers for some reason or another. Why didn't he just do whatever he did in Truth Seekers to track Fizz/Via?
About Via, I'm gonna have to call bullshit on the "My powers are limited on earth" nonsense because, for starters, kid Stolas is shown to remember the contents of his books and now he's been studying them for years. And two,
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There is no excuse for Stolas to not use his powers and whenever the show says otherwise it's bullshitting its way out of it.
Even in Western Energy, before Stolas gets captured he was just aimlessly going in and out of his demon form. Why didn't he turn him into stone like he did in Loo Loo Land?
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Stolas has been presented as weaker than he is. He's made to look more vulnerable, less "above it all". He was untouchable, and when he wasn't, it had a harder impact and made sense. Now, I almost forgot he's a powerful demon.
And his characterization is at the core of this issue. At times he's just so kind and gentle with people who should get smacked in their heads.
What about Ozzie's
The big clash, the one that called Stolas out on everything, the one that set him on a genuine path to grow, what about it? How is it adressed while the show tries to pretend he's a good person?
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No, not the message Stolas is looking at, the ones in the background he just scrolled through.
I'm not breaking this down. I refuse. The only reason I put it here is to show how fast it goes. I'm not touching that.
Who is Stolas
Stolas is a moral scapegoat – "a character that is bad, but the book/movie/show portrays them as good". It's characterized by the story twisting itself to make one character look good.
Stolas didn't start out as one, but became one over one season premire and it just kept escalating from there.
Helluva Boss takes place in Hell. A horrible place filled with horrible people, the root of all evil. Stolas fits right in there. He was already problematic, awful, fed into Helll's broken system. Why trying to cover up his faults? It's Hell, and it was great. But now, we're supposed to pretend he's just flawed.
With the show actively ignoring everything he did, what's left for him? What does he have to learn? How will he grow as a person? How will he improve? What's his character arc? It's nothing. Because everything that happens to him isn't his fault, and at times could just be solved with one conversation.
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webslingingslasher · 8 months
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heyyy I was just wondering WHAT THE HELL DO YOU PUT IN THIS FRAT!PETER FICS BC I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT TROUBLE AND PETER! I just melt for them together😭😩❤️
I swear when I'm about to fall sleep he just pops into my head and HAVE to grab my phone to reread some of them. Your writing is just soooo god and I wanted to thank you for creating such a work of art🥵🥵🥵
Also I can't stop thinking about frat!peter being jealous like finding a guy talking who hooked up with trouble and overthinking how different they are from each other? and if the ex fling keeps trying to talk with trouble in a friendly way, he would play it cool? i feel like he would look at them talking and he knows about what happen between them but is kinda nervous? idk
I LOVED BRUJA THANK YOU SO MUCH I HAVEN'T ENJOY READING LIKE THIS IN SOOO LONG🥹🥹🥹
first, peter and trouble are crack. second, thank you very much for enjoying!!!
---
peter knows what it looks like to awkwardly chat with an old hookup, he’s done it more than a few times. so, when he watches your eyes dance around the room while you politely laugh in response to the guy in front of you, he just knows.
he’s taller than peter, and he’s not one to be self conscious about his height, but he might now. and he’s got bigger biceps, peter’s spider-man and doesn’t have the build this guy does.
and he’s got nice hair. really nice hair. the kind of hair he knows you love. it’s like peters, but longer and a bit more curly. peter pats the hair on the back of his neck, he’s been growing it a little longer, but apparently not enough.
in a desperate attempt to keep your attention on him tonight, he takes his hat off to throw it on top of the fridge. you always beg him to take it off, it’ll work. he’s sure of it.
it doesn’t. you’re unable to stand still, if he was projecting, he’d say you went from awkward to uncomfortable. peter’s not going to be the guy to barge in, but he takes a step forward, just in case.
it’s like you can feel him, your eyes shoot to his across the room. no words are said or mouthed, but your eyes said enough. ‘help.’ its all he needs.
peter cuts the guy right off, slinging an arm low around your waist. a kiss to your temple, ‘hi, trouble.’ you relax into his touch, you hold on tight to his arm. ‘have you met tanner?’
he hasn’t, and he really doesn’t care to. it looks like tanner doesn’t either, they’re both sizing each other up. peter’s putting on a brave face, but he knows tanner's thinking he’s no competition, and peter can’t help but feel the same.
still, he throws a hand out. ‘sup, man. i’m parker.’ tanner shakes it, ‘sup.’ peter holds his hand a bit too tight, he’s trying to subtly prove that even if he was smaller, he could kick his ass if needed.
tanner asked peter how he knew you, he had to bite his tongue on the disrespect. he knew exactly how peter knew you, his possessive hold tells it all. ‘i’m her boyfriend.’
you dig your nails into his arm, you were caught off guard with the statement. he said it like it was obvious, tanner smirked. ‘ah, lucky man.’ peter really doesn’t like his face.
‘yup. sure am.’ you nudge back against him, peter takes it as a hint to get out of there. he couldn’t agree more. ‘wanna get a drink?’ you nod quick, 'yes, please.'
your 'boyfriend' made a small show of spinning you in his hold, you laughed at the twirl and balanced yourself on his shoulders. 'nice seeing you again,' you forgot who you were with for a second.
'you too, tanner! have a good night.' peter nudged your lower back to get you walking, you didn't make it four steps until you were pulled in for a bruising kiss. every thought melted away, there was only one person on your mind.
'peter,' it puffed out, just like your lips.
'trouble,' he said it like a greeting. you shook your head, leaning in for another, you were lucky tonight, he supplied.
'thanks, boyfriend.'
'that was a typo.'
you scoff. 'no it wasn't, that was you acting like you have one foot up so you don't feel as threatened.'
the choice of words make his skin crawl. peter knows it's not exclusive, exclusive. but he at least thought you both were on a similar page, one that didn't include saying 'so you don't feel as threatened.'
'what the fuck is that supposed to mean, trouble? so i don't feel as threatened? i was doing you a favor, but feel free to go entertain whoever you want, i'll do the same.'
peter's sudden aggression had your head spinning, you tried to grab onto his arm before he left you entirely. 'did i say the wrong thing? i didn't mean to say the wrong thing!'
'i didn't feel threatened until you said i should be. i just really don't like being reminded that i'm a choice you can change your mind on at any time, it's not a good feeling.'
sometimes when he says something to that effect, you want to tell him he could do something about it. sometimes, you let it go and remind him you're not looking for anyone else, if you were, you would've stopped putting up with his shit ages ago.
this is one of the times you put his fears at bay.
'look, peter, that guy, tanner? he's all talk, he seems like some cool guy but he really kind of sucks. in the least commitive way possible, boyfriend, there are no threats.'
'you keep talking about threats.'
'cause you have none!' you exhale deeply, 'i don't like anyone else, okay? and talking to other guys makes me wanna bash my head into a brick wall.'
'you talking to other guys also makes me want to bash my head into a brick wall.'
you grin and smooth out a wrinkle on peter's shirt. 'good, we're on the same page, then.'
peter throws an arm around your shoulder while he guides you to the kitchen.
'i'll deny it if you say anything, but i quite like reading at the same pace as you, trouble.'
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mentally-a-slut · 2 months
Text
Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)
Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)
Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!
You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.
You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.
The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.
The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.
"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."
Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."
Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.
Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.
Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.
John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.
It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.
Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.
You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.
You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.
He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"
You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"
He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."
All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"
He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"
"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"
Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.
You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"
"Just into town."
"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"
You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."
"Oh. Oh."
The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.
~~~~~~
You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.
Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.
His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."
You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.
The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.
The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.
When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.
You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.
"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.
You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.
His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.
You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.
His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."
He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"
Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"
He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.
His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."
He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."
You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"
You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."
Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"
"Good girl."
He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."
"Whatever you say, baby."
You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.
His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.
The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."
He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"
"Feel good, huh?"
"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"
He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.
"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."
You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.
"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.
With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"
You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."
He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.
He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"
"Only for you."
You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.
You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.
You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"
His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."
You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.
He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.
You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.
"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."
You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.
You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.
After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.
Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.
He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.
Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."
His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.
His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."
His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.
You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"
You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"
"Go 'head baby, I've got you."
With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.
"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"
You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."
You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."
He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.
"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."
His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."
His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.
His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.
You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.
He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"
You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."
219 notes · View notes
lovebugism · 1 year
Note
Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?
He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.
One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.
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✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !
summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!
( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )
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Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.
The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.
He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 
So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.
Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.
He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.
“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”
He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 
“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”
He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.
“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”
“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 
“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”
When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”
“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.
He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.
He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”
You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.
“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”
 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”
“Like what?” you scoff.
Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”
“And by people you mean you, right?”
“Obviously not,” you monotone.
“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”
“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”
“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”
“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”
“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.
“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”
His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”
“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”
“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”
“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”
Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.
“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.
This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.
He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”
A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.
He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.
It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.
Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.
Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.
Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.
So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 
And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.
So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.
Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.
It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 
The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.
You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.
And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.
“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”
You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”
“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.
“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”
“Well, she did ask me first.”
That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”
“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 
If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.
You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.
You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”
“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.
He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.
“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.
“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”
Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”
“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 
You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.
After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.
She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 
Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.
And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.
You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 
You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 
But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.
He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”
You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.
You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.
Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”
“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.
“…What?”
“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”
And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.
It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.
“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”
“Well, you did,” you monotone.
The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”
“…Yes.”
A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”
“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.
“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.
“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”
You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 
“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.
“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”
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